


Ceremony

by ivanolix



Category: Battlestar Galactica (2003)
Genre: Canon - TV, Canon Het Relationship, F/M, Married Couple, Religious Themes & References, Wordcount: 1.000-5.000
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-12-28
Updated: 2009-12-28
Packaged: 2017-10-20 21:43:16
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,253
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/217382
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ivanolix/pseuds/ivanolix
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sam's not religious, so Kara's blessing for their home is new to him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Ceremony

They both find it weird when they actually build a cabin on New Caprica. It might not last long, given that they can’t be sure about what weather and seasons will do to this piece of land. But it feels damn good to put it together. Kara doesn’t talk much about future plans, but she pulls Sam in for a frak when they smell like sawdust and whispers that it’s the first of many ceremonies to mark the house as “ours”.

Sam’s always lived in apartments, so has Kara. He’s always been on the move, so has she. The idea of settling down was always a disturbing blip that they’d left far on the edge of their radars until war beat them down to shadows of themselves that just wanted a _home_. Somehow all those traditional values taste sweet now, and feel fresh because they’ve never tried them, don’t have any memories of the Cylons destroying old homes. And new is always good, even if deep down it’s old.

Kara doesn’t really decorate, and Sam only figures out why after he mentions that her swirls and squiggles on napkins and old paperwork are good, real good. She says painting needs to wait, and so she’s probably the one who leaves out her small box of personal items so he can rummage through and come across the pictures of her old apartment and make the connection. The house isn't theirs enough yet for her to risk that memory. In any case, Sam’s idea of personalizing a house is the amount of clutter that can be dropped and pushed around, so he just files away the knowledge and doesn’t comment again about the bare walls.

Sam’s got a job as a director of the new housing development construction, and Kara’s doing security work—it takes a while for them to get any kind of “money”. So it’s months before he figures out that despite their vigorous trysts up against the bare walls, she really does hate the sparseness. He comes home one day to find a cloth bag on the table in their front room, spilling out not only weapons but also candles, squat and round.

He sniffs the air and there’s a woody fragrance that doesn’t match the usual smell of the vegetables and beer that compose their meals. Glancing around the small room, he sees Kara standing on a chair and setting candles on the ledge around the walls.

“Hey,” he comments, dropping his own day bag full of tools and a folder full of sketches and plans.

Kara makes a small noise, finishing her candle arrangement before stepping down.

“This is new,” he adds before kissing her as she comes over, winding her arms around his shoulders as per usual. He can’t quite read her face in the flickering from the glow of the already-lit candles, but it has the intrigue of a plan in it.

“Good thing you’re back early, I need inappropriately long limbs to make this easy,” Kara says without explanation, reaching over to the table and grabbing a few candles.

“You have something against lamps?” Sam asks dryly and stares at the white columns she plops into his open hands.

She glances back over her shoulder and chuckles, eyes and hair glinting as she moves her chair to reach and douse the incense stick he hadn’t noticed before. “Weren’t kidding back then about not being religious, obviously.”

“Oh.” Sam frowns; he feels backwards, ignorant.

“Come on, don’t look like a whipped puppy,” she says, waving her hand at the walls where his candles should be placed. She grins a little. “Never thought I’d be teaching this class.”

Sam gets up on the balls of his feet to place the candles, wracking his brain to try to remember what little he learned of the Lords of Kobol at Noyce Elementary. Not that he doesn’t appreciate any time Kara’s in a sharing mood, but whether it’s ego or not, he prefers that it not originate from his cluelessness.

Kara follows after him with a long matchstick until all of the candles are lit, the incense stick in her other hand tickling his nose with the interesting smoke smell. “Okay, c’mere,” she finally says, grabbing the last two candles and the incense plate.

She clasps his hand and pulls him to the doorframe, kneeling down and bringing him with her. Sam mirrors her, sitting with his knees perpendicular to the threshold and trying not to look confused. Kara scoots a little closer and sets the incense between them.

“Remember our vows?” she asks, looking almost grave as she hands him a candle. “Promises to Hestia and Hermes?”

“I was a bit hungover,” Sam admits and shrugs. He expects a quip, but she just raises her eyebrows a little.

“Well, after all the improv, I thought we should play things by the books for once,” Kara says as she prepares the incense. “The willow is for Hermes, the candles for Hestia; together they’re supposed to bless a marriage’s home, if you use the right ceremony.”

“Okay,” Sam breathes out. She’s right, this is by the books, it’s serious. He swallows, and Kara glances up and looks slightly amused. Daring to break the slight tension, he says, “I assume this isn’t like the ‘ceremonies’ we usually do?”

Kara snerks. “No.” She lights a match and uses it on her candle, then his. “Come on, Sam, it’s not hard and I’ll do all the talking.”

He rolls his eyes at her.

“That’s my Sam,” she says, lips pursed to hold back a smile. “Even if he is a heathen.” Then, straightening her look again, “Now we blend our flames to light the incense.”

There’s a look of clarity in her eyes as she reaches out her candle, and Sam takes in a deep breath before he stretches out his own hand, their candles' flames meeting and blending in a fiery kiss.

“As long as our life flames burn separate,” Kara says softly, “they shall burn together in the words that we use to let our minds communicate as one, and our joined flame will last as long as our lives give it fuel.”

Sam’s throat tightens as her words touch the part of him that has him fearing that he loves her too much, but never in a million lifetimes would he reject them. Their candles lower, and the incense lights with a burst of willow’s scent, and Sam remembers this part at least. “In the name of the Lords of Kobol,” he says with his entire heart somewhere behind the words.

“In the name of the Lords of Kobol,” Kara repeats. She breathes out and smiles up at him, a bit unsteadily as the weight of it seems more than she’s used to, even given her faith. “The good luck should be ours now.”

“Until the house burns down because of the candles,” Sam says to nudge aside the tension.

She smirks, and leans in to pull his face to hers as they still kneel. They kiss in the sight of the gods, and though Kara mentioned words in the blessing, Sam feels that with him and Kara even this is a communication that Hermes would be proud of. Sam believes enough in the gods that he offers up a prayer that this ceremony is the right kind of tradition. He and Kara will need all the luck they can get, he suspects—he knows too well that love alone can’t conquer everything.


End file.
